Unimpaired
by crowprincess14
Summary: When a telekinetic named Alfred wakes up to find his boyfriend missing, he doesn't initially panic. However, the situation is far more deadly than he and his brother imagined, and soon they're racing for their lives to get Arthur back. But that isn't as easy as they hoped it was going to be. And their powers may just prove to be more harm than good. UsUk, CanaPan, other pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Unimpaired**

**Chapter One**

* * *

**unimpaired** [ˌʌnɪmˈpɛəd]

_adj_

not reduced or weakened in strength, quality, etc

* * *

The first thing Alfred noticed when he awoke was the lack of warmth in the bed next to him. Absently, he groped around the sheets, trying to find his boyfriend and pull him closer.

"Mmf, Arthur…" he muttered, half asleep. But his wandering hands could find nothing to grasp. This started Alfred fully awake. "Huh?"

He sat up rubbing his eyes, then grabbed his glasses and put them on. Sure enough, the bed next to him was empty. That was odd, Alfred thought. Usually Arthur was fond of lying in bed until Alfred woke up, and then they would get ready for their classes together. It was unlikely that Arthur was making breakfast as well, seeing as the apartment was not on fire and not dead silent like it was now.

Alfred swung his legs out of bed and stood up, frowning. If he had just gotten up to use the bathroom, the sheets next to him wouldn't be as cold as they were now. It was almost as if they hadn't been slept in in hours. A bad feeling settled in the pit Alfred's stomach.

"Iggy?" he called, using his favorite pet name for his boyfriend. "Iggy, where are you?" The only response was the chirping of a bird on a tree outside. With increasing anxiety, he changed out of his sleep clothes and into something more presentable.

As he walked into the small kitchen, he scanned the surfaces for any sort of note Arthur might have left him. Despite the clutter of papers on one of the counters, there was nothing that looked recently placed on the stack. Arthur's phone was even plugged into a charger in the wall. _Shit. _Alfred grabbed a bowl of cereal and began shoveling it into his mouth, hardly noticing the marshmallows he usually enjoyed so much.

When he went to dump the milk in the sink, as slurping was a habit Arthur had managed to break out of him a while ago, his foot caught of a bag that he'd haphazardly thrown onto the floor the night before. Before he could recover his balance, the bowl and its milky contents went flying. Then they stopped in mid air. With a bit of effort, the milk floated back into the bowl, and the bowl floated to the countertop by the sink.

Alfred gave a gasp as he let the bowl go. He was out of practice, really. But since he had started living with Arthur, he hadn't gotten much alone time to improve on his skills. Anyway, doing so could endanger Arthur's life if someone ended seeing him.

As far as Alfred knew, he had been born with his telekinetic skill. When he and his twin brother had discovered their powers when they were preteens, Alfred's first thought had been to become superheroes and lend their powers to save the world. Matthew was more cautious, however. They'd just be labeled as freaks, he'd said. They'd probably be wanted by the government or foreign agencies for a superweapon or experimentation. The people they'd care about would get hurt. Even their parents might become afraid of them and what they could do if they showcased their skills.

With no little reluctance, Alfred agreed to keep their powers a secret, only practicing with them when they were positive they were alone. Matthew's powers were a bit different, so he didn't have to be as cautious. Alfred, though, could only practice with small objects in the safety of his own room. The biggest he'd ever lifted was his bed, and only for a short amount of time. Afterwards he'd be exhausted and have to rest, but he was working on building up his stamina.

And now Arthur was missing. Could Alfred have gotten sloppy and caused him to be taken? He didn't want to admit it, but it was certainly a very high possibility. He should probably call Matt first and ask for advice, though. He knew full well that his quiet brother could remain calmer than he could in the situation.

A few button pushes on his iphone later Matthew's end was ringing. On the third ring there was an answer. "Hello?" Matthew's voice sounded sleepy, as he no doubt had woke him up.

"Hey Matt. We have an emergency. It's you know what related."

Matthew sounded more alert now. "What? What happened?"

Alfred took a deep breath. "Arthur's missing. I can't find him anywhere."

Matthew let out an annoyed exhale, the type that only his twin could get out of him. "You woke me up because of that? He's probably just taking a walk or running errands."

A huff of frustration came from Alfred's end. "That's so unlike him, though. He's got that whole British gentleman thing, he'd at least have left me a note to read when I had woken up. And he would have taken his phone, which is sitting on the table right here. Plus the bed was cold this morning, and I woke up earlier than usual. His shoes are even by the front door! Something's not right." Alfred's tone dropped. "Do you think that someone… Someone could have him?"

Matthew's tone softened. "How about you go to your classes today, then call the police if he's not back by then. If they don't find anything, Kiku and I'll ride over and I'll take a look at things."

It wasn't as urgent as he had hoped, but it would have to do. "Thanks, Matt. You're the best."

"You know it." Alfred pressed end call and slipped his phone in his pocket with a sigh. There was really nothing he could do at this point. Perhaps he was making something out of nothing. It just wasn't normal, though. If Arthur had to go attend to something, he would have made sure it didn't seem like he was up and leaving him. Of anything, that he knew.

With that thought, he put on his favorite brown jacket and slung his bag over his shoulder, then headed out the door.

* * *

Classes that day were nothing less than pure torture. They crawled by at an aguishly slow pace, making a restless Alfred feel even more jumpy. He hardly paid attention to what the professors were saying, and the notes he were taking probably made as much sense as Ancient Greek to anyone reading them. By his last class, Alfred would have done just about anything to just get out of there. Why did any of this stuff matter when Arthur could be hurt or worse?

After what seemed like a millennia, he was finally free to go from the hellish classroom. As fast as he could, Alfred ran back to the apartment, thankful that he was still in shape enough to do the entire distance on foot. Normally, he and Arthur would take the bus, but there was no time to wait today.

"Iggy~!" he called with false cheerfulness as he unlocked the door and threw it open. There was no happy or even angry response to his cry.

Alfred's shoulders slumped. Of course, he couldn't be that lucky for his problems to be solved that easily. With a cry of frustration, he slammed his fist down on the dining table. Where could he be? He wouldn't have left him… Would he?

Angrily, he shook those thoughts out of his head. Arthur loved him, he said so all the time. Alfred had always responded in kind. There was no reason for him to leave without saying goodbye.

To distracted himself, he looked up the number for the local police department and dialed it. "Yes, I'd like to report a missing person… Alfred Jones… Arthur James Kirkland, age 21… Blonde hair, green eyes… Yes, I do have a photograph… Apartment 124B, The Golden Falls… Thank you, I'll be waiting."

They had promised to send some officers over to check things out and also the interview him more thoroughly about the missing person. Alfred waited out in the parking lot so he could show the officers which apartment that he had disappeared from. A few minutes later, a police car drove up and two officers stepped out.

Alfred studied the two curiously. One was clearly an albino, with a shock of white hair and red eyes. The other was shorter than his partner, but seemed more refined with glasses that magnified his purple eyes and a upward curl in his brown hair. Their German accents were plainly audible when they introduced themselves as Officers Beilschmidt and Edelstein.

"Are you Alfred Jones?" Officer Edelstein asked, surveying him.

"That's me" Alfred said in response, straightening up. "My-Our-apartment's this way." He began to walk, then silently listened with amusement when the two officers began to bicker quietly behind him.

"I swear to God, Gilbert, if all you do is brag to this man about how awesome you are-"

"Loosen up, Specs, they get freaked out if you're strictly professional. If you're cooler with them then they'll be more likely to tell you stuff."

"Or they won't take you seriously and you'll end up getting killed."

"This is it." announced Alfred, stopping at his door. The duo stopped their arguing and resumed a more professional air.

"This is the apartment Arthur Kirkland vanished from, correct?" Officer Beilschmidt asked as he stepped inside. A small smirk was still present on his face, but other than that he seemed legitimately concerned.

Alfred confirmed this while they glanced around, taking everything in. It was easy enough to act normal around these people, it was after all what he was used to doing. As long as nothing actually started floating, he should seem perfectly normal.

"There seem to be no sign of struggle or forced entry. May I ask your relationship with the missing person?" Officer Edelstein asked, seeming to study Alfred even more than he had before.

Alfred hesitated. Nowadays, people were getting more and more accepting, but you still ran into prejudice against gays more than he'd like. "…He was my boyfriend." He hated how weak his voice sounded when it shook with emotion.

The brown hair officer nodded and wrote this down on his notepad. Then they took turns asking him the most likely routine questions with these cases. Was leaving suddenly unusual for Arthur? Does Arthur have any family that lived in town? Was he involved in any gang activities that he knew of? Was he acting strangely the night before his disappearance? None of these questions brought anything to light, but he supposed they needed the information.

They also asked to see a picture of Arthur as well, either to put on posters or to get a better look than a mental image could provide. Alfred opened his wallet and delicately pulled out his favorite photo of them both together. It was at a skating rink towards downtown, and they were clinging to both the railing and each other, neither knowing how to get the motion down just yet. A laughing grin peered up at them from under heavy brows. They'd been posing for the cameraperson that had been skating around, taking pictures of couples for them to buy later. It had only been taken a few months ago, and he could picture the moment so vividly he had to fight tears that threatened to come into his eyes.

Finally Officer Beilschimdt shifted awkwardly. "Do you think that it's possible that… Well, he didn't want to face saying goodbye to you in person and…" He trailed off.

Resentment bubbled up in Alfred. "Arthur wasn't that kind of person. I think he'd rather die than do something like that."

"People do strange things, you know. Someone will swear to God that this person would never do such a thing, that they must be innocent or guilty. But it often turns out to be wrong. Perhaps you didn't know him as well as you thought." Officer Edelstein shook his head. "We'll get this back to the station now. Have a nice night."

Alfred watched them leave, fists clenched. It might make sense on their end, but it wasn't even close on his side of the story. No description could come close to actually _knowing _Arthur. They'd been dating for a while now, and Alfred was even toying with the idea of proposal, if they were going to move into a state where it was legal.

He caused a pencil that was lying on the table to revolve furiously, venting his frustration into his powers. He'd have to call Matt, then he and his boyfriend would drive from their side of town where Matt was interning and look through things. Although Matthew was originally the one who decided to conceal their powers, he wondered just how much Kiku knew about the whole thing.

Whatever, that didn't matter now. The police would be looking for him, if he had really just gotten drunk and lost and Alfred's memories from the night before were just a dream. He'd get some sleep, he told himself, and everything would be clearer by this time tomorrow. Who knew, maybe he'd wake up tomorrow with an apologetic Arthur sitting next to him. Alfred could almost see his face and laughed to himself.

He was going to find him, no matter what. That was a fact.


	2. Chapter 2

**Unimpaired**

**Chapter Two**

Arthur didn't know where he was.

He'd awoken cold and disoriented in the pitch darkness. When he had tried to reach out, to find something to fight off the feeling of claustrophobia and dizziness that was overwhelming him, his wrists jerked back together. Pulling his arms away from each other slowly revealed that his wrists were shackled together, and quite tightly. As he shifted his position from laying on his side to facing upward, his knees banged painfully on a metal ceiling, forcing him to return to his original position.

Arthur's breathing hitched, and then began to speed up in a blind panic. This space was smaller than he had originally thought. He forced himself to calm his body down. He couldn't be sure that there was an air flow and he could be wasting precious oxygen. Though if he was really without a supply of oxygen, it wouldn't make that much of a difference, he'd eventually die anyway. A sudden roar and a slight rumble caused Arthur to assume he was in some sort of car trunk.

Memories of the previous night floated into his head, filling in a few of the missing puzzle pieces. The person in their apartment last night… Arthur could taste leather on his tongue from where they had clamped their hand over his mouth. A sick feeling filled his stomach. If he or she had been robbing them, then why had they bothered to take him? Then the realization hit him fully. He had left Alfred asleep in the other room! Had he been kidnapped too, or did something worse happen to him?

"A-Alfred?" Arthur managed to whisper, choking back a sob. "Alfred, where are you?" It was futile, of course. There was no way on earth that he could hear him, even if they were in the same situation. He was trying to make himself feel better, but it only succeeded in making himself feel worse. Tears bubbled up as he pulled his knees to his chest as best as he could.

Crying freely now, the blonde Brit gave one more desperate cry. "Alfred!"

* * *

"Alfred!"

The scream echoed through the foggy landscape. Alfred stopped. "Arthur? Is that you?" He began to run.

"Alfred!"

"I'm coming, Arthur, hang in there!"

The screams died down, replaced by a quiet weeping sound that broke Alfred's heart to listen to. "Arthur, where are you?!"

He extended his hand into the fog, trying to grasp at something, anything, which would lead him to his lover. But all he met was empty air.

* * *

Alfred gasped as he awoke, still trying to grasp at something in the distance. Slowly, he lowered his arm and slumped against his pillow. It had been 24 hours now since Arthur had disappeared. It was a strange feeling, sleeping alone. It felt so long since he had a bed to himself. Although it hadn't been long, Alfred already missed the shorter man dearly. It was almost as if a limb had been ripped off without warning,

That dream had shaken him badly. The terror in Arthur's voice sounded all too real and close to him. His stomach churned as the soft crying played itself again in his ears. What could possibly cause that much fear in him?

It probably was a dream caused by the combination of yesterday's events and his uncertainty and worry he had for his boyfriend. Then again, Alfred's powers were technically caused by the mind, right? It was possible he was developing another power, this one more similar to Matthew's.

Alfred shook his head. He always tried to stay optimistic about the future, but this was bordering on delusional. What were the odds that he was actually hearing Arthur cry out for him? It was stupid to get so worked out about an admittedly vague dream. He was stressed, and that was all.

As he tiredly made his way to the kitchen table and sat himself down, he thanked the heavens above that it was only one more weekend until he was off on spring break. Classes hadn't gotten any easier or harder, but the anticipation gave a weird sense of everything dragging along and rushing by at the same time. He and Arthur had planned out the week thoroughly, from dates to just spending some time cuddling together. There was even some talk of doing something more adventurous, like visiting a rock climbing gym or visiting a beach, even if Arthur was one of the worst swimmers he'd ever seen.

At least, that was the original plan.

A determinedness washed through Alfred's veins. That _was_ their plan. They were still going to have an awesome week, and he was going to make sure of it. He was going to do everything humanly possible to get him back here in this very apartment.

The door bell rang, snapping him out of his internal pep talk. Damn, that was probably Matt and Kiku. He hadn't been expecting them so early. Of course, Alfred couldn't complain. The sooner his twin checked everything out, the sooner they'd have an idea of just what happened to Arthur. From there, they could do what they needed to to track him down.

"I'm coming!" he yelled as he hurriedly stood up, suddenly conscious that he was still in his pajamas. No time to change now. He threw the door open.

"Good morning, Alfred." Matthew gave him a quick up and down glance, then gave him an irritated look. His violet eyes said _Really? You didn't even bother getting dressed before we arrived?_

Alfred gave him a grin and a wink, which never failed to annoy his usually placid twin. "Morning, Mattie. Morning, Kiku."

"Good morning, Alfred." The darker haired man gave him a nod, obviously trying to ignore the fact that he was still in his sleep clothing.

Matthew had gotten lucky with Kiku, in Alfred's opinion. He had grown up in the same neighborhood as himself, Matthew, and Arthur, so he knew him pretty well. All four of them had been pretty good friends when they were younger. Kiku was also a brilliant artist, who could draw as well as many mangaka at a relatively young age. Currently, he was making an income by making and selling what Alfred was told were called doujinshis. He wasn't quite sure what "R-18" meant, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Come on in, guys." he said, opening the door wider and taking a step back. "Do either of you want something to drink?"

Matthew walked inside. "We stopped at Starbucks on the way here, so I'm fine. Kiku?"

"I am good as well."

Alfred swore they were one of the politest couples he'd ever seen. "Suit yourself."

The pair sat themselves down on the old couch that was situated in the living room, across from a small TV. Alfred paced in front of them, too stirred up now to sit. Once he put his energy into something, there was no slowing him down.

Kiku leaned forward, concern written all over his features. "So the police have no ideas?"

Alfred affirmed this with a nod. "If they did, they didn't tell me." He resumed his pacing.

Matthew spoke up after about a minute's silence. "I've been thinking, Al. I bet the police do have a prime suspect, if they've ruled out the runaway option already."

Alfred's face became eager. "Who is it?"

Matthew looked him straight in the eyes. "You, of course." Seeing the range of emotions that flashed across his brother's face, he continued. "You were both close to the victim and were the last one to see him. As far as they know, Arthur could have never even went to bed last night. Your word is the only proof on that. It would have been easy for you to kill or kidnap him in the dead of the night and dump him somewhere. Later on, you'd play the part of the worried boyfriend and report his disappearance to the police."

Alfred's face grew red. "I would never-!"

Matthew's soft voice remained calm. "The police don't know that, do they?"

His brother groaned. "You've read too much Agatha Christie."

Kiku spoke up. "I've heard that most kidnappings are done by someone the victim knew. It would not be a farfetched idea." He gave Alfred an apologetic look. "Not that I think you did it."

"Thanks, Kiku." Alfred felt suddenly weary. "Matt, can you just check things out so we can get this started?"

Matthew shifted. "Speaking of that, can I talk to you in private?"

At this Alfred frowned. "Um, sure. Be right back, Kiku." Together he and his brother stepped into the bedroom and shut the door. Once he was sure that their conversation couldn't be heard. "Ok, bro. What's the deal?"

Matthew coughed uncomfortably. "Remember when we promised not to show anyone our powers, for fear of something bad happening to them because of us? Well… When you called last night and invited us over, I figured it would be a good time to tell Kiku about me, er, us. I wanted him to know before things got even more serious between us."

So Matt had been considering the same ideas Alfred had. It wasn't all that surprising, they had been together for nearly as long as he and Arthur had. Still, it was a bit of a shock that Matthew was willing to give Kiku a chance to back out if he was uncomfortable, before they were involved in something you couldn't just walk away from. It made Alfred slightly guilty that he hadn't even thought of something like that. In the back of his mind, he always told himself that he'd hide his powers for as long as possible and pray that his lover never found out.

Matthew continued, not noticing Alfred's pause. "But now that I'm here, I'm not sure if I can actually do it. What if he actually does reject me?"

Alfred put a hand on his shy brother's shoulder. "Listen, dude, there's no way that'll happen. If anything he'll like you better than he does now. He's seriously into that action and fantasy cartoon stuff, he'd think being in a relationship with someone like that in real life would be awesome."

Matthew still looked a bit doubtful. "I guess you're right."

Alfred clapped him on the back. "And if it looks like he's upset in any way, I'll put in a good word for you. But I need your help to find my person that I don't want to lose."

This seemed to reassure him more. "Right. You can go back to the other room, and I'll start checking things out in here."

Alfred dropped his arm. "Can do." He shot him a thumbs up. "Good luck!"

* * *

Once his brother was out of the room, Matthew let himself relax. Rolling his shoulders forward, he worked as much tension out of his body as he could. It helped significantly if he was loose and open. After cracking each one of his knuckles, he placed his hands, palm down, on the side of the bed he assumed was Arthur's.

Matthew's power was also with his mind, but much different than his twin's. While Alfred's power touched on the physical world, Matthew's was almost purely mental. He considered it a form of ESP. Instead of sensing spirits, however, Matthew could sense and bring up memories on an object. As long as the person or thing had touched it, he could sense exactly what they were doing and even sometimes what was going through their minds at the time.

When he was younger, he had trouble controlling his power. Whenever his bare skin would brush up against an object, he'd automatically be sucked into the memory whether he liked it or not. Over time, Matthew had trained himself to only call the memory up when he desired it. It had been a long time since it was last necessary for him to do so, though. Hopefully it wouldn't cause any difficulties.

The memories started to flow up through his fingertips and into his mind. Tossing and turning. Alfred had had trouble sleeping last night. No surprise. Matthew willed himself to go back further, but no later than a day. If Arthur and Alfred were doing things in private, he had no desire to see it.

Here he was. The night before last. There was shifting in the sheets, then a sudden start and muffled scream. A nightmare. The figure on the other side of the bed didn't stir. He was in too a deep sleep by this point to notice. The lighter blonde tried to reposition himself a couple times, but about an hour later he sighed and gave up.

Matthew moved down to the floor to follow his path, eyes half lidded. As Arthur walked into the kitchen, he slid his hands across the carpet. In the back of his mind, he registered Alfred quieting a confused Kiku. But his was too far absorbed too do anything about it right now.

Arthur had paused when he got to the kitchen. He shivered almost involuntarily, glancing around the darkened apartment. It was as if he sensed something was wrong, but wasn't quite sure what. Then Arthur shrugged, then reached out to open a cabinet. His hand never reached the handle, however.

Suddenly, something came out of the darkness and grabbed Arthur, pulling him backwards. He tried to scream, but his mouth was covered by a rag. It was probably chloroformed or something of the like, Matthew guessed. Arthur tried to struggle, but it was clear he was no match for his opponent. A last look of hopelessness and terror was sent in the direction of Alfred's room, then the emerald eyes rolled into his head as he passed out.

The unknown man lifted Arthur up like he weighed next to nothing. As if he was holding a perfectly normal item, the man opened the door and carried him out, just like that. A minute later the apartment appeared perfectly normal and untouched. The kidnapper was even considerate enough to lock the door behind him.

Matthew jerked himself out of the past and back into the here and now. Ignoring the looks from both Alfred and Kiku, he stood up, deep in thought.

"Well?! What did you see?!" Alfred was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

Matthew steadied himself. Telling his twin about this was not going to be fun, to say the least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Unimpaired**

**Chapter 3**

"Come on, just tell us already!" Alfred was impatient. "The faster we know, the faster we can find him!"

Matthew took a deep breath. "Give me a moment, I need to work it out in my head." Everything about what he'd seen was pretty clear to him, actually. He just needed a second to prepare what he was going to say to Alfred about what had happened. The last thing they needed was Alfred going completely psycho on them.

It wasn't widely known, but Alfred's dark side was closely linked to his overprotective tendencies. Matthew remembered back when Alfred had come upon some guys in their grade bullying Arthur on his way home in high school. Alfred had claimed he didn't remember much of what happened, but the boys nearly had to be hospitalized. They hadn't even started dating at that point, although Matthew had suspected a mutual crush between them.

If he broke this the wrong way, his brother might end up destroying something. Or worse, hurt someone or himself. He didn't want either things to happen, even if it seemed next to impossible. Matthew avoided Kiku's eyes as he began. There would be time for explanations afterwards.

"The other night, Arthur couldn't sleep. It seemed like he was having bad dreams."

Alfred's eyes flickered down. "He is prone to having them. It's not something he likes to talk about."

Matthew winced slightly, then continued on. "Anyway, he got up and was going to make himself some tea. Or at least, that was his plan."

"Then what happened, Matt? You don't have to be dramatic about it." A hint of testiness had crept into his voice.

"Then… Then some guy grabbed him and put a cloth over his nose. Arthur tried to escape, but it was useless. Once he passed out, the guy picked him up and walked out. It couldn't have been any earlier than two in the morning."

Alfred's voice had gone scarily quiet. "And you didn't follow them out of the apartment?"

"Get real. I'd just end up in the street and get hit by a car. This is all we have."

Matthew bit his lip when he saw the look on his brother's face as all the aspects of the situation hit him. Looks like he didn't manage to get a calm reaction from him, after all.

The dark blond's fist slammed into the wall. "WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT WOULD THOSE BASTARDS WANT WITH HIM?!"

"Alfred, calm-" Kiku tried to pull Alfred away from where he was repeatedly punching the wall.

He jerked himself away. "SOMEONE KIDNAPPED MY BOYFRIEND AND YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM ABOUT IT?!" Alfred glared at him furiously, voice lowering. "This is my fault, isn't it? I got careless and someone saw."

Matthew said gently "You don't know that."

"But what else could have happened? I doubt the guy was robbing the place and Arthur just happened to walk in on it. This seemed like it was planned." Alfred threw himself into frenzied pacing. "They left with him right after he passed out. If they were a thief, they would have just left him on the ground there."

Matthew couldn't avoid Kiku's gaze for any longer. "I agree, Alfred. But can you give Kiku and I a moment to talk about some things for a second, please?"

Alfred was too distracted to care. He waved an arm in their direction. "Yeah, yeah. Go on ahead."

Kiku inclined his head to the bedroom, then began to walk when Matthew nodded. The blond cast one more concerned glance at his brother before shutting the door quietly behind him.

Alfred didn't notice. After a few more minutes of pacing, he stopped and frustratingly ran a hand through his hair, still messy from sleep. A million different thoughts and ideas whirled around his mind. This had to be his fault, no matter what Matt said. But why didn't the opposite happen? If the government or whoever wanted himself or even Matthew, then why even bother with Arthur? Why didn't they just take him? They certainly had the capability, whoever it was. It didn't make sense.

Briefly, he explored any of the other ideas that his mind presented to him. Arthur's family was nothing more than lower middle class. If they were trying to get ransom money, there were plenty of higher class students in the area that would generate more success in that department.

The idea that Arthur was involved in some sort of gang activity was laughable, so Alfred disregarded that idea as soon as he thought of it. The picture of his short boyfriend, sweater vest and all, as an intimidating mob boss was enough to elicit a small chuckle out of him. Maybe he'd embroider his enemies to death. No, that option was out.

As far as Alfred knew, Arthur didn't have any big enemies, at least that he ever mentioned to him. Sure, he had exes, but who didn't? None of them had seen so overly attached or angry that they would actually resort to kidnapping to him.

An uncomfortable lump rose in his throat. Was it possible that Arthur was seeing someone who had such personality traits? Arthur had refused to break things off with Alfred, maybe, and the other person got so jealous that…?

No. It was impossible. If this unknown person had a thing for Arthur, it was purely one sided. Hadn't he always given Alfred lectures about being a gentleman? Cheating on your boyfriend/girlfriend seemed to break rule number one. Besides, he knew about his boyfriend's supposedly secret anxieties. Alfred was almost sure that he would rather die than be the one to cause the end of a relationship.

That only left his original thought or some unknown reason. Neither one sounded appealing to him. Then again, he'd rather not be in this situation in the first place. If he was going to find Arthur, he was going to have to be able to look farther beyond himself.

A light bulb shattered. Alfred realized that his fists were clenched tightly together, nails digging in so hard that he was almost was drawing blood. Quivering ever so slightly, he relaxed his hands. He was well aware he was dangerous in this state. Blinding rage wasn't threatening to spill over any more, but he was still dangerously close to the edge. He needed to calm himself down before he broke something else.

To distract himself from any dark thoughts, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a broom to sweep up the shards of glass. As he walked back, he passed his bedroom door. A mummer of voices came from inside. Alfred sincerely hoped that their relationship would be alright, despite his seeming indifference a few minutes ago.

They came out not long after he finished sweeping. Matthew and Kiku's hands were clasped, but Alfred couldn't tell if there was a slight tension in the air or not. At least his brother had a small smile on his face. That was a good sign.

"Are you guys cool?" Alfred asked tentatively.

Matthew was relieved to hear a less furious tone of voice. "Yeah, more or less."

Kiku looked at him with inquiring eyes. "Can I see…?"

Alfred smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sure thing." He raised his hand. As he did so, a textbook raised itself up from the table where it had been laying. Another joined it, then another. They spun slowly in the air, then lowered back to the table. Alfred gave a small gasp as he let them drop.

Kiku's eyes lit up with delight. "Amazing." he breathed. "And you have no idea why you can do that?"

"Not in the slightest." Alfred threw himself onto the couch, leaning back into the cushions. With a gesture, he invited the pair to sit down next to him, which they accepted. Matthew made sure to sit between Kiku and Alfred. It might seem like he was doing better, but the wrong word could still make Alfred snap. He would be better at calming him down, and also prevent Kiku from getting injured in case of that happening.

Alfred closed his eyes for a few moments, then opened them again. "Since we know more of what happened here the other night, we need to come up with a battle plan. How are we going to hunt this guy down?"

"We're not going to be hunting anyone down right now, Alfred." Matthew said.

"And why not?" Alfred snapped back. "They could be doing anything to him by now. We can't afford to wait any longer."

"You're still in your pajamas, for heaven's sake! If we think things out instead of rushing into them, we'll be more help to Arthur."

Suddenly, the dream he had last night came rushing back to him in full clarity. A conviction entered Alfred's mind. "He's calling for me, Matthew. I heard him in my dream last night. He sounded so scared."

Kiku and Matthew exchanged glances. "Alfred…" started Kiku. "The possibility that-"

Alfred cut him off. "You didn't hear him sobbing. It sounded as real as you do now."He looked back and forth between them. "We hardly know anything about our skills. It's possible that we can develop more."

Matthew became thoughtful. "That's true, if unlikely." He gave a long sigh. "But still, we should wait. The police could find something. They're more intelligent then you find them in books, you know. Or whoever it is could contact us with some sort of ransom or trade. We should stay the night here and if nothing has happened by then, we'll figure something out then."

Alfred reluctantly thought this over. "It makes sense, I suppose." Every part of him was itching to go find Arthur, but his brother was right. They were going to need something to go on. It would be stupid to drive around, wasting gas, while the kidnappers were trying set up a trade. He wasn't going to tell the other two this, but he was willing to give whatever to get Arthur back. Including his own life or body. People always said it was a pointless thing to do, sacrificing himself. However, he disagreed. If the love of his life was safe and sound, it would be worth it.

* * *

Kiku lay still on the bed. Matthew was sound asleep next to him, curled up in his usual sleeping position. Without his glasses, he looked much younger than he really was. A small smile played across his lips. Kiku loved cute things, and Matthew was no exception. Often Kiku would find himself staring at the sleeping man when he himself couldn't sleep to relax himself. Others might find that behavior creepy, but Matthew would only chuckle when he'd wake up to a pair of dark orbs peering at him from the other side of the bed.

It was weird not to see him hugging his stuffed polar bear, but neither of them had been planning to stay the night. In the end, Alfred had decided to sleep on the couch and give the couple the bed. He couldn't help but to hear the pain and jealousy in the blond man's voice.

There was still some strain between the two of them, though, even if it was not as bad as it could have been. As soon as they'd entered Alfred's room, Matthew had come completely clean, telling him everything he knew about their powers, interlaced but not the same. Kiku was initially very curious, which he could tell comforted Matthew. Still, there was a nagging doubt at the back of his mind. Was he really being told everything? Kiku considered himself a good reader of the general mood in the room. It didn't feel like either of them were holding anything back.

Kiku understood why they wanted to keep quiet about their abilities, certainly. They were lucky a situation like this didn't occur earlier, or that they weren't sold off as sideshow freaks. Silently, Kiku scolded himself. He didn't have to tell him at all. Matthew had taken a big step in revealing this, and he should be grateful.

Anyway, Matthew seemed about as content as the situation allowed. He should at least be happy because of that. With that thought, he closed his eyes.

A small rustle outside of the room caused Kiku to stiffen. A muffled footfall came soon after. That was strange. If it was Alfred moving around in the other room, then the whole apartment would know. This almost sounded like someone was trying move around without being heard…

Another step, closer this time. Kiku's eyes shot open. He wasn't imagining it. There was someone in the apartment.

* * *

**A/N: This is my first real time writing in Kiku's perspective, so I did the best I could, but of course it isn't perfect. If you have any critique on how to write him or just in general, feel free to tell me! Thanks for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Unimpaired**

**Chapter 4**

Kiku was thinking frantically. Did the captors realize they had made a mistake and come to take the right person this time? Did that mean Arthur was already dead, or did this have nothing to do with the current situation? Was Alfred in danger? If that was the case, he couldn't just lie here and let it happen.

That was when the doorknob to the bedroom slowly began to turn.

It was obvious they weren't supposed to be woken. Kiku matched his breathing to Matthew's sleeping rhythm as well as he can. If he appeared to be as soundly asleep, he'd have an advantage over the intruder. That was, if she or he wasn't armed. Kiku's back was facing the doorway, so it would seem like he was out while really his eyes were open and alert.

His parents had supposedly been martial arts masters when they were younger, so they made sure Kiku was put into lessons from the moment he was old enough. It had been a few years since he'd actually gotten a chance to spar with someone, since he stopped going once he graduated, but it was hard to forget something he was raised since he was small being taught. His only hope was that Matthew wouldn't accidentally get caught in the middle and get hurt.

The intruder was at the bed now and had paused over them. Kiku's heart raced, despite his calm exterior. He'd only have one chance to pull this off right. There was a rustle as the intruder presumably pulled a rag out of their pocket, most likely laced with chloroform or some other disabling chemical. Slowly, a hand crept down towards Kiku's face.

Quicker than the intruder ever would have thought, Kiku's hand shot out and grabbed their wrist. Rolling out of the way, Kiku pulled them down to the mattress, then on top of them when they were momentarily stunned.

Matthew awoke with a start. "Kiku? What's going on?" he asked groggily.

Kiku pressed his weight down onto the intruder, knowing this wouldn't hold him for long. "Run!"

Matthew was fully awake now, scrambling for his glasses. He shoved him on his face and rolled out of the bed, running for the door. "I'll wake Alfred up!" He was halfway to the door when a thump sounded behind him.

Matthew skidded to a halt and found the light switch. After switching it to ON he whirled around to check if his boyfriend was alright. The intruder had managed to flip Kiku off of them and was standing up. In the light, Matthew could see that the intruder was male and dressed in all dark clothing. His face was unremarkable, like someone you wouldn't look at twice in the grocery store. Brown hair, green eyes, a light stubble on his chin. His expression was one of annoyance. He obviously wasn't expecting resistance on this mission.

Kiku stood himself up quickly and dropped into a ready stance. His dark eyes met Matthew's violet ones. _Go, _he mouthed. Then he turned and riveted his full attention to his attacker.

Matthew wasted no time in spinning back around and running into the living room. "Alfred!" he cried, going to the couch and shaking his brother. "Wake up!"

Alfred groaned and gave him a sleepy look. "What time is it, Matt?"

"Never mind that, we're under attack!"

This seemed to snap Alfred into awareness. "What?!" Matthew handed him his glasses, and he put them on with a startled expression on his face. "By who?!"

"I'm not sure yet, but it looks to me like the same guy who got Arthur. Kiku's fighting him as we speak." A loud crash in the other room confirmed this statement. Matthew gasped, filling with anxiety. Kiku could handle himself, but the other guy could be even more trained. Matthew wouldn't be able to bear it if Kiku got seriously injured. "We have to hurry."

A look of pure rage settled upon Alfred's features, nearly scarier than the one he had worn that morning. "Out of the way, Matthew. I'll take care of this guy." Using more energy than he had probably ever used before during the middle of the night, he stood up and stormed into the bedroom, with his brother in tow.

Kiku and the intruder were locked in battle. A nightstand had been knocked over and was lying on the ground along with the various items that once were placed on it, including a lamp. Both Kiku and the intruder were already sporting bruises. Although the brown haired intruder was taller, it appeared as if they were evenly matched. However, Kiku was visibly becoming worn from the continuous fighting. As Matthew watched, a kick to the head sent Kiku flying.

Matthew's scream was all Alfred needed to snap. The intruder's smirk suddenly vanished as he felt himself float into the air. "What the-?" was all he managed before he went flying into the opposite wall, hard. He groaned, but was slammed over and over into the hard surface until he could hardly see straight.

The next moment Alfred was on top of him, shoving him back against the wall with his bare hands this time. The blond's grip was tight around his throat as he felt himself slowly being throttled.

Alfred wasn't about to show mercy, however, tired as he was. "WHERE IS HE?!" he screamed, nearly hysterical. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ARTHUR?!"

"Alfred…" Matthew began, helping Kiku up.

Alfred hissed, not taking his eyes off the beaten intruder. "Don't you dare give me a lecture or tell me to calm down, Matthew. This guy knows something about where Arthur is, look at him. I'm not going to rest before I find out everything he knows."

Matthew didn't agree with is methods, but he could see the desperation in Alfred's eyes. This was the one lead they had. If they couldn't get anything out of him, it was likely that they wouldn't have anything else to go on and would be stuck. The mere thought must drive his twin insane. "Very well. Carry on."

The intruder gave a weak chuckle. "Why are you interested?" Surprisingly, he had a light Spanish accent.

Alfred's manner turned cold. "He's my boyfriend. I know you have something to do with him going missing. Now spill it before I start hurting you."

"That's so sweet." said the intruder with evident bravado. "Let me think…. Short, blonde, big eyebrows? Really Anglo looking?"

Alfred's breathing caught. "That's him." His grip tightened ever so slightly. "What did you do to him?"

"Relax, _amigo_, he was still alive when I dropped him off." The intruder shrugged. His tone sounded more like he was planning a picnic then talking about abduction. Alfred couldn't believe this guy.

"When you dropped him off? What do you mean by that?" Kiku gave him a questioning look.

The intruder shrugged again. "I was just hired to kidnap the person who belonged to the name and address that I was emailed. I got my first one a month ago, and then a few nights ago, then this morning. Honestly, _amigos_, I'm overqualified for this position." He gave them a charming grin. "El Jefe usually does more intense things then this, but a man has to eat. And the pay was phenomenally well."

Alfred was frowning. He hadn't expect him to talk so much and so easily. El Jefe, as he seemed to call himself, was oddly easygoing as well, for one who had just lost a fight. Red flags were going up all over his brain. Not to mention the fact that he kept using Spanish terms, nearly as a form of endearment. Like he was trying to seem friendly and get on their good sides. No, El Jefe was up to something.

"I'm going to ask you again. Where. Is. Arthur? Tell me or I swear I will kill you right here and now."

El Jefe sighed. "There was a car waiting for me on the side of the road, near some Wal-Mart. The location changes every time, though. Anyway, _amigos_, I stopped there and handed the target over to the waiting vehicle. He was still unconscious at the time, so it was easy. Then the guy gave me my money, and I drove away happy. Simple as that."

Alfred slowly mulled this over. "First of all, stop calling us that. We're not your _amigos. _Second, if you already got Arthur, then why bother coming back?"

"I got a message saying that my next target was this Kiku Honda guy. I was pretty surprised to find out that he was here also. You guys related or something?"

Matthew's eyes widened. So he was coming for Kiku. And had nearly succeeded, too. Matthew's arm around Kiku became less supportive and more protective. Any mercy he felt for the would be kidnapper was gone.

Alfred gave a frustrated sigh. "Do you know why your employer wanted them?"

"You learn pretty quickly in this business that you're not paid to ask questions." El Jefe flashed them another grin that no doubt would have enchanted anyone but them.

All three of them exchanged looks. It didn't seem like El Jefe had anything else to tell them, information-wise. Alfred was bitterly disappointed. He had been hoping for someone who knew what was happening, not some hired guy. It was clever of whoever it was, he grudgingly admitted. It was next to impossible to pick up a lead to Arthur now. His shoulders slumped, causing his grip to loosen.

"What should we do with him, guys?" asked Alfred, turning around slightly to see their faces. "We can't let him go and allow him to keep hurting people." They began to discuss in low voices.

This distraction was all El Jefe had needed. He threw himself forward, effectively freeing himself from Alfred's weakened grip. A small knife slid into his hand from where it had been concealed in his sleeve. Alfred toppled backwards, giving a yell of surprise. In a second the Spaniard's foot was pressing into his neck.

El Jefe's words were calm. "Hand over the Asian kid and I think I'll have a better grip on my knife." The blade was perilously dangled over Alfred's face. "Don't try any freaky stuff, either. I can move faster than you can throw me. I was just taken by surprise before."

As their eyes met, Alfred could finally see what made this man a killer. Whatever he did, he wouldn't lose any sleep over it. "G-Guys, don't be stupid. I can probably survive this."

"You sure, _amigo_? That's a big chance to take." The hand holding the knife slipped down a few more inches. Alfred jumped, then closed his eyes.

Matthew was torn. To choose between his brother and his lover was impossible. Each one would want them to save the other. And he would hate the decision he made for the rest of his life, with the other person angry with him for choosing him over the other. If only he had powers that were actually useful in battle!

Kiku took a step forward. "Let him go. I'll go with you." His expression was unreadable.

El Jefe smiled. "That's the spirit, _chico_." He flicked the knife back into his sleeve happily, but it was likely that he could slide it back out in half a second. The pressure on Alfred's neck increased. "Come over here."

"Kiku!" Matthew cried, trying to pull him back.

"Stop it, Mattie. It's going to be alright." Kiku's tone was flat. "Let my friend go and I promise that I'll come with you."

As Alfred's eyes opened, they met Kiku's. The dark haired man nodded ever so slightly, causing Alfred to start. Understanding filled him as he pieced it together.

While El Jefe's attention was riveted on Kiku, a fallen lamp slowly began to rise behind his back. Matthew's eyes widened, but he had the sense to keep quiet about it. If El Jefe noticed what was going on, Alfred was probably done for.

El Jefe tapped his other foot, growing impatient. "Come on, I don't bite. Sting, however…" The Spaniard laughed at his own little joke. Kiku couldn't help but wonder how often he used it. "Lighten up, most assassins would have you all dead by now. Lucky for you, I'm a nice guy."

The words had no sooner left his mouth when a lamp struck him across the head. He didn't even have time to give a cry before he crumpled into oblivion. Alfred gave a grunt as El Jefe landed on top of him. He was heavier than he looked. The blond shoved him off quickly, then sat up.

"Alfred!" Matthew and Kiku both ran to his side.

"Are you ok?!" asked his brother, concern written all over his face.

Alfred stood himself up. "I'm fine. No scratches or anything." He turned the other way as the lovers started kissing, hiding his mixed emotions.

When the pulled away, Alfred had managed to tie El Jefe up using sheets and confiscated his knife. "I'm going to put him in the bathroom and lock the door. If he's as good as he says he is, I doubt he'll starve to death." At this, Matthew gave a snort. "It's not like he can call the police on us. It'll be safe to leave him here once we're gone."

Kiku nodded. "You're right, we can't stay here anymore. Whoever it is taking people, they won't be pleased by failure. They'll send more people."

Alfred looked grim. "That's right. We won't do any good to Arthur if we get captured ourselves." He began to dig around the closet for a bag. "We can hotel and city hop for a while, until we get better clues about Arthur's whereabouts. We can visit your apartment tomorrow so you two can pack, then head out."

Matthew still had Kiku pulled close to him. "I agree."

Alfred gave a sigh, giving up his search for the night. "Then let's talk the first thing in the morning. I doubt our Spanish friend will be awake by then."

With that, he walked back out to the living room and tried to resume his restless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Unimpaired**

**Chapter 5**

**A/N: Mild suggestiveness. **

Arthur took a long breath, eyes drifting shut. He'd stopped his sobbing when the tears had run out, and instead tried to replace his fear with cold stubbornness. He wasn't going to show weakness in front of his captors, whoever they were and whatever they wanted from him.

That had been hours ago. Or had it been days? He couldn't keep track, but it was long enough for a ache to settle into his body from lying in an uncomfortable position for so long. Although he wanted to be alert as he could when the trunk opened again, Arthur was pretty sure that he'd dozed off one or two times.

The car he was in had stopped a couple of times, but never for very long. The road condition had stayed roughly the same, so Arthur hadn't been knocked around much. The handcuffs were already starting to chaff his wrists, and he was at least grateful to not have any additional pain. Yet, anyway. A shiver passed through his body.

As much as he strained to hear, Arthur could make out no conversations coming from the seats in front of him. Either there wasn't anyone besides the driver in the car, or his captors weren't much for talking. That meant he still had no idea why he was in the trunk to begin with. Did robbers usually kidnap the people they stole from? That didn't seem a likely occurrence.

Then there was the question of Alfred. Every time his tired train of thought came this way, he would almost start to panic or cry again, forcing him to take long gulps to settle himself down. Damn his anxiety. There was literally no way for Arthur to tell if Alfred had been taken too or was even still alive. Arthur could hardly fit in this tiny trunk himself, and if they had forced his larger boyfriend into one of the same size, he would probably end up suffocating or being injured at the least. Arthur would fall apart if that happened.

Arthur tried to think of something else to take his mind off of that thought. He went back to brainstorming about why he was in this situation anyway. If this was an amateur group of criminals, it was possible they would panic if their robbery was walked in on. But if that was the case, it would seem like they would shoot one or both of them on the spot. It had been quiet in the apartment as well, which seemed unusual if they were amateurs, who would ransack the place. Arthur hadn't known something was wrong until a rag was being pressed over his mouth.

He came again to his original train of thought once more. Over and over he'd gone through every detail, but he could glean nothing that would help him in his situation. The only other thing he could think about was escape. That was going to be hard, however. Arthur's original plan had been to lash out as soon as he was taken out of the trunk and make a run for it, but he wasn't sure about the current state of his legs. He probably wouldn't get very far in his current position. At least he could try.

No sooner than he had comforted himself with this thought then the car turned onto a bumpy gravel road, then jerked to a stop. Arthur winced as his back slammed into the wall of the trunk. From the bolts of pain rolling up his spine, he could tell it was probably going to leave a bruise, but that was the least of his problems at the moment.

A car door slammed and there was a crunch of boots on gravel. Arthur took a deep breath and let his body tense up. Let them come. He was ready.

A click sounded as the trunk was unlocked. Blinding light flooded the tight space a moment later. Arthur gave a small cry and instinctively closed his eyes. Damn it, he hadn't accounted for the sunlight. Going so long without seeing the sun had made seeing its light crippling. Tears pricked out of the corners of his eyes.

The redness behind his eyes vanished suddenly and was replaced with cool darkness and a tightness around his neck. Tentatively, he opened his eyes and was met with nothing. Arthur inhaled sharply. Had he gone blind?

No, he could feel the material against his cheek now. Someone had stuffed a dark colored bag over his head and pulled the drawstrings. Arthur tried to move his hands up to lessen the grip of the fabric around his upper neck, because it was nearly cutting his airflow, but was roughly lifted up before he had a chance to.

The second his bare feet touched the gravel and he was let go of, his legs gave out and he came crashing down. He automatically tried to stop himself from hitting the ground, but his handcuffs snapped him back and he hit the ground hard. Arthur bit his tongue to keep himself from making a sound. There was a murmur from the presumably man who had lifted him up behind him, while several younger sounding snickers came from around him.

"You three." said the man who had lifted him up in a husky voice. He had an accent that was familiar, but just unidentifiable to Arthur. The laughter abruptly came to a stop, even though the tone of the man's voice had had a curious hint of cheerfulness. "Take him inside and put him up for now. I've got other business to take care of, so do it right."

"Yes, sir." said one of the others quickly. Arthur presumed they were guards of some kind. They seemed to be terrified of the other man.

The other man only grunted in response. The car door slammed once more, and the engine roared as he drove off.

Arthur had been waiting for that moment. The guard's attention would be focused on the retreating form of the car, not on him. He pushed himself onto his feet as fast as he could and started to sprint away from them blindly, ignoring the rocks that pressed painfully into his feet.

"Hey!" cried one of the guards, causing the stones to crunch as he spun around in surprise.

Arthur felt himself smirk slightly. _Got you, wankers. _Then something hard slammed into the back of his head. Pain flooded his body and he gave a cry, falling forwards. Once more he found himself face down in the gravel. Stars danced before his eyes.

A foot pressed itself against the back of his head, pressing him into the sharp stones, which didn't help with his dancing vision. "Listen here, brat." growled the guard. "I'm being paid too much to be humiliated by a prisoner like you. Try something like that and I'll just shoot you in the head instead, no matter the consequence." There was no doubt that he meant it. "Are we clear?"

Arthur gave a weak moan as an answer. He hated how pathetic it made him sound. Internally, he cussed all of them out violently. _I'm not some weakling that they can kick around. _But good God, did his head throb. He wasn't going to risk being shot, at least in this state.

The guard moved his foot, but not before giving him a sharp kick to the side of his body first, causing him to groan again. Another round of smug laughter from the others. "Good. You best remember that." said the guard, sounding pleased with himself.

Someone hauled Arthur to his feet, then jabbed him in the back with the muzzle of their gun. "Walk." commanded another guard. "We ain't carrying you." Arthur had no choice but to do as they said, even if it was slow going without shoes and vision. He couldn't even use his hands to steady himself on anything.

As they walked on the gravel road, the guards behind him fell into conversation, either not knowing or not caring that Arthur could hear every word they were saying. Probably the latter.

"I like this one better." said the first guard, the one he hadn't heard talk yet. He had a deeper voice than the other two. "That other guy was throwing punches left and right. You guys weren't there, but it took all three of us to take him down. I had a black eye for a week afterwards." he whined.

"That's because you're incompetent." grumbled the second, the one who had threatened Arthur. "You took your eyes off this guy for five seconds and he makes a break for it. You're making us all look like idiots" It sounded like he was seething.

The third guy chuckled to himself. "I wish I could have seen his face when you were beating him up. That would have been hilarious." That wasn't the word Arthur would have used, but the third guard laughed again. "Left." he commanded, prodding him in the side like he would if he were herding a cow. Arthur gritted his teeth but adjusted his angle nonetheless.

The first guard snorted. "Don't get your hopes up. I doubt he was that attractive, even if you like them beat up and bloody."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, asshole!"

"Ha, I bet you would do anything with a dick, dude." They started to bicker, with the second guy commenting ever so often about their stupidity and such.

Arthur suddenly realized how thin the material of his pajamas were and shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't tell if they were being serious or not, but he was basically helpless if they actually tried to do anything. He found himself longing for Alfred. It was evident he was alone in this situation, so where was his boyfriend?

"Look how nervous his body language is. I bet you're turned on." taunted the first guard.

"Shut up!" snapped the second guard before the third one could say something hotly in return. A hand caught the back of Arthur's shirt, stopping him where he was. "Look, we're almost in the house. Do you want our employers to here you arguing about the prisoner like that? You know what would happen to you."

The other two were dead silent.

"That's what I thought. So shut your mouths and do your damn job." The hand released his shirt and grabbed his wrists together. Arthur hissed slightly but didn't give him the satisfaction of crying out again. "One of you grab the door, I'll be leading him from now on."

There were a couple thuds as one of the guards ran past him and a creak when a door was opened. Cool air hit the front of his body.

Guard number two yanked on his wrists. "Up you go. And watch your step." He snickered, amused at his own private joke.

Arthur soon found out what he was laughing at when his legs smacked painfully into a step and he almost fell yet again. He had to slowly feel his way forward with his feet, trying to carefully measure their height before stepping up carefully. It didn't help that the guard, who seemed to enjoy inflicting pain, had a death grip on his wrists and was pulling him along at a near impossible rate. Occasionally the guard from behind him would help him up by pushing on his back, but Arthur wondered what his true intentions were.

Fortunately, there weren't many steps, so he made his way up relatively quickly even with the difficulties. From there he was finally inside. The air conditioning blew at him from all directions, causing him to shiver in his thin pajamas. They were long sleeved, but they didn't protect much from the direct cold. The chilly floor, however, was a blessing to his sore and scraped feet.

The second guard guided him through the house at a brisk pace. Although he was mostly guided around obstacles, his feet would occasionally catch on something and cause him to stumble. The guard's nails would always dig into his flesh when his happened, practically cutting off circulation. His whole body would be black and blue by the time this was over.

Finally, they came to a stop. A soft _whoosh _was the only thing to inform Arthur that a door was opening. One of the other two guards reached his hand under his hood, brushing against his skin, causing Arthur to stiffen. But they were only loosening the drawstring of the fabric.

At the same moment, the hood was ripped off and Arthur was shoved forward into a small, dimly lit room.

"Welcome to your new home, brat." Arthur could only get a blurry glace at the three guards before the windowless door was slammed in his face and he was alone once more.

After a few minutes, the spots faded from his eyes and he could take a proper look in the small room. The floor was made of concrete, and the walls looked like a bunch of wallpaper had been ripped off, leaving a bare wall. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, giving the room a primitive look. A cot was shoved against a wall, with a single sheet thrown onto it. The door was solid wood, which looked impossible to break down.

With a lurch, he realized just what the room was intended for. Of course, what else should he have expected after everything else happened?

The room was a prison cell.

Arthur slumped against the far wall, pulling his knees close to his chest. Just how the hell was he going to get out of this one?


	6. Chapter 6

**Unimpaired **

**Chapter 6**

Alfred jolted awake. In a dazed state, he grabbed his glasses, stumbled to the window, and pressed himself against the cool frame. Midmorning light filtered through the pane, causing him to blink rapidly until the image of a sparsely used parking lot became less blurry. Taking slow breaths, he calmed his frantically beating heart back to a normal rate.

He was in a cheap motel room, in a town about an hour and a half away. It was one of the smaller rooms, but there were two beds and just enough space for them to move around comfortably. The only downside was the lack of a free breakfast, which normally Alfred would lament greatly to anyone, if they were listening or not. Food was one of his favorite things, especially if it was free. This morning, though, he had been too tired to care.

They had woken around 5:30 AM, none of them having slept well with a would-be assassin locked up in the bathroom. Alfred had then found two duffel bags and stuffed them with clothes and toiletries, on for himself and one for Arthur. It was surprisingly difficult emotionally. He hadn't expected that. Each shirt of his boyfriend's had brought back a different happy memory spent together. _Stop thinking like that, _he scolded himself. It wasn't as if Arthur was dead.

Once he had finished packing, they drove across town to Matthew and Kiku's apartment so they could pack as well. They had agreed to use Matthew's old secondhand car, since it would look more out of place in Alfred's apartment complex parking lot. Although it wasn't much, they didn't want to call attention to themselves. Alfred hardly used his car, anyway, because he and Arthur's monthly budget didn't allow for much gas. Besides, the bus stop was within walking distance. There was practically no need unless it was an emergency.

Alfred had come up with an excuse for missing school, claiming that it was a "family emergency". It was true, in a way. Hopefully they would be back before spring break was over. Since Arthur was already reported as a missing person, he didn't even bother to make something up. That could attract unwanted suspicion also, and he didn't want the cops on his case. For the first time, Alfred was thankful for his unemployment. Matthew was having take a lot of time off, since they had no idea how long they would be searching. Kiku could draw anywhere, at least, and he had packed his supplies.

They'd driven to the motel, and as soon as they checked in Alfred had thrown himself onto one of the dingy beds and crashed. Then his consciousness dissolved into a dream. It began to replay itself before his eyes now.

At first, he was in a cramped, dark, space. There was next to no room to move, and his hands were bound together with what felt like handcuffs. As much as he tried, his body just wouldn't respond. Just when the claustrophobic feeling began to set in, there was a shining light, making him squeeze his eyes together. Then there was a gloom again as he felt himself lifted into the air.

As his legs gave out and his body hit the gravel, a realization hit him. He was in Arthur's experiences. He wasn't sure how he had known then, but it was as clear as daylight in that moment. It was a dream-like certainty, true, but his now awakened consciousness told him it was real too. This was what his boyfriend is experiencing or had experienced recently.

It was confirmed a few moments later when his body gave an involuntary whimper laced in an familiar British accent. Alfred's real body had gritted his teeth in barely suppressed fury. However, as the dream moved along, it grew into an uncontrollable rage against Arthur's unseen captors. How dare they treat Arthur like that. How. Dare. They. Hitting him, prodding him and jerking him around like a dumb animal, harassing him in a such a vulgar…!

Alfred longed to lash out and bring these guys the pain of a lifetime, but Arthur's hands stayed stationary and shackled in front of him. His head, though, was held as high as it always did. That alone made Alfred hopeful. Arthur was fighting these people, even if it was in a small way. He had not submitted willingly. As long as it didn't get him punished again or cause any more trouble on his side, Arthur's signature stubbornness could be a blessing in this situation.

Alfred had awakened before he could get much of a look at the room Arthur was thrown into, much to his disappointment. There could have been a clue or something that would have told him where he was held captive. Instead, he was staring out into a crumbling parking lot, trying to memorize every last detail that he had seen, heard, and felt.

The flimsy wood under his fingertips gave a crack, startling him. Alfred realized that he had been gripping the window frame as he had been thinking back on the dream. Damn, he'd have to pay for that. He didn't need any more stress than what was already placed on him. At least everything here was cheap, he fumed.

The door to the room opened, accompanied by the sound of quiet laughter. That was right, Matthew and Kiku had gone to scope out the area and do some grocery shopping. That meant he had only been asleep for an hour, if that. It was probably only pity that let Alfred get left behind so he could get some sleep. Matthew had been in the room when he was packing, after all and probably saw his poorly concealed melancholy expressions.

"I never thought of it like that, I always just assumed it was the other way around" said Matthew in the soft voice he usually used while in public. He shut the door and set his bags down, still chuckling at whatever they had been talking about. "Hey, Alfred. How did you sl-" Matthew stopped mid-sentence when he saw the venomous glare that Alfred threw at him from over his shoulder. The heavy atmosphere was nearly crushing

"I'm glad to see you two are enjoying yourself so much." he spat."It's not like there's anything urgent we have to do." The two had been very close ever since they'd gotten up this morning, hardly a moment passing without them touching or giving each other loving looks. Alfred knew they had had a scare and he shouldn't be this upset, but he couldn't help feeling so irrationally jealous of their closeness. It was like rubbing salt into wounds that were still bleeding like crazy.

Matthew looked hurt for a moment, then realized that his brother was lashing out about something. His tone would be different if he had been angry with just them. No, Alfred was angry about something else and was taking it out on the first person he saw, which was so like him. Matthew gave Kiku's hand a reassuring squeeze, allowing his body language to fill in the rest. Kiku gave him a quick up and down look, then seemed to understand. "What's the matter?"

Alfred turned back towards the window, facing away from them so it was impossible to read his expression. "I had another dream while you were gone." he said eventually. Something about this dream was personal, intimate. For some reason, he didn't want to tell them at all. There was no choice, however. Three minds were better than one in this case.

"Another dream?" Matthew echoed, scrutinizing him with visible confusion.

"Another dream about Arthur." Alfred clarified snappishly. With antsy an antsy movement, he whirled around. "Remember I had one the night after he disappeared? Where I heard him calling out my name? Well, it happened again. Only this time it made sense, and I could actually see my surroundings." Or Arthur's surroundings, technically.

Kiku gave him a patient look, as he would with a child that kept insisting that they had seen bigfoot playing in their sandbox. "We said it was not very likely, remember? Sounding and seeming real and being in the real live world are two completely different things. You have had a lot of anxiety lately, so I cannot blame your mind for being more agitated than it usually is."

"God dammit, Kiku, it was real! I was in his body! I could hear and feel everything that happened to him! There isn't any doubt about it." Alfred was practically glowering at Kiku. "It's my subconscious or consciousness or whatever, I would know if I was trying to fool myself."

"Alfred!" Matthew gave him a rebuking look. He could tolerate the ranting, but this was taking it way too far. It was almost as if he had forgotten about everyone and their feelings and obsessed himself over what had happened to his missing boyfriend. "I know you're upset, ok? But you shouldn't take it out on us! I'm really worried too, and so is Kiku! You seem to be forgetting that we were close to him also. Remember when we hung out on the playground? Or went on double dates together?"

Alfred blinked, then felt a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Matthew's lecture was bringing him back down onto a level where he could be reasoned with by the average human being, and the internal turmoil settled itself down some. Matthew and Kiku didn't have to come all this way to help him. Heck, Matthew could even lose his job if the search took too long and he ran out of days he was allowed to take off. And loosing this internship could be career threatening. They weren't just sticking around because of their relationship with himself. They were doing it for the same reason he was.

The anger drained from Alfred's face, making him look tired. In a way, he looked older than he was, but oddly enough, there also was a child-like nervousness in his eyes. "I'm sorry, it's not you I should be upset with." He walked over to his bed and sat down on the very edge.

Matthew exchanged a look with Kiku, then Kiku inclined his head and gave him a small smile. "It's alright. I understand that your position is more frustrating than ours, and you have been very distressed lately."

"Thanks." said Alfred halfheartedly, shuffling his thin socks on the bare carpet.

"So what was this dream about, then?" Matthew asked cautiously, not wanting Alfred to get himself worked up again. He didn't like seeing his brother in a state like that. He hated to admit it, but it scared him as well. Once Alfred hit a certain point, next to nothing would probably bring him back down. Matthew had never seen that happen, and he was going to make sure it stayed like that.

With a voice that was struggling to keep itself even, Alfred described the events and sensations in his dream. His fingers clutched at the fabric of his jeans tightly. They had to believe him. Alfred wasn't sure if flat-out begging would do anything to sway them at this point, but if it came to that, he would have to swallow his pride. There were things more important than maintaining a good image in front of his friends.

They both were quiet for a moment, reflecting. Kiku appeared lost in thought, while Matthew was frowning. "You almost never remembered your dreams when Mom and Dad asked. Yet you can describe this one to us perfectly, down to the last detail." He was more puzzled than accusing.

His twin was right, it was unusual of him. Both this dream and the one he had of Arthur in the fog, however, were as clear and bright as the memories he recalled of yesterday. Most of the time, he had a fuzzy idea of what his dream had been about, if anything. Even that he lost after about an hour or so of being awake.

Alfred held his head in his hands, fingers tugging at blond strands. "Believe me if you want. It doesn't freaking matter." There was a growing twinge of desperation in his voice. "I'm getting Arthur out of there as soon as I can. I can't let him get hurt any more than what's already been done to him." He looked up, meeting each pair of eyes, one set violet and one set dark, with his steely blue ones. "All my life, I've said that I was a hero over and over again. I wouldn't be one if I failed him now."

Also, he had sworn to Arthur that he would always be with him, no matter what. Even though this vow was mainly met with an eye roll and a snort, he could tell it meant a lot to Arthur, as it also usually got him a peck on the cheek. And if he was lucky, something longer and more passionate. Even if he hadn't been able to protect Arthur in the first place, Alfred was going to do everything in his power to keep him from further harm. If it exposed his abilities to the whole world, so be it.

Darkly, his thoughts turned for those three guards who had… manhandled… Arthur like that. If he ever happened upon them, he would tear them to shreds slowly and painfully. Alfred savored that thought with maybe a bit too much pleasure for a moment, then let it go when he heard Matthew start talking.

"Alright, Al, I believe you now." Kiku nodded in silent agreement. "Or I at least believe that you believe what you're saying yourself. But there are still things that don't add up to me. I mean, of the two of us, you would think that I would be the one to receive visions. It's pretty much what I do already, isn't it? It's obvious our powers both are mentally based, but it's likely that our powers are controlled by different parts of the brain entirely. "

Alfred hadn't even considered that possibility. It made perfect sense in retrospect. He heard somewhere that the senses came from different areas of the brain, and their powers were a second nature in a way. Albeit a repressed second nature. Once again, he had to give Matthew the honor of being the smart one, but not without the typical grudgingness of a sibling. Just because he was a couple minutes older and got better grades and had a job didn't make Matthew better than him.

"I have an idea," said Kiku, looking deep in thought.

Alfred's eyebrows raised, and Matthew gave him a curious look. "Yeah?"

"First of all, it is possible that you each have faint traces of each other's powers inside of you. You do have practically identical DNA, after all. But they manifested differently in each of you. Hence, Alfred's dreams, which are similar to Matthew's recollections. Or, perhaps your abilities are not done evolving. You could be discovering only a small portion of your powers at a time, and you have a huge potential ahead of you. Seeing as you hardly ever used your abilities growing up, it makes sense that you are only just now developing new skills."

Alfred was truly interested now. Whether he was making this up as he went along, saying it as atonement for ticking him off earlier, or had really figured it out made no difference in Alfred's mind. His attention had been piqued. "I get what you mean. What else were you going to say?"

The more Kiku talked, the more he seemed convinced of his own theory and spoke with confidence. "I think you and Arthur have-ah, what is a good word?-imprinted on each other, so to speak. Every time you embraced, kissed, or the like, your subconscious was linking you together. The more in love you fell, the more apart of you he became, until you two were completely intertwined." Kiku chuckled to himself. "Romantic, is it not?"

"Then, for the first time since this linking, Arthur is in danger. His mind starts sending out something akin to distress signals, like a sinking ship sending mental SOS . Normally, another human mind would not pick up on these signals. It would be impossible. However, a special mind that was linked specifically to him and him alone, would hear it as clearly as a siren going off in his head. The signals most likely get stronger or weaker, depending on the distress level. "

"After a certain level, it would trigger something that would make your previously unknown abilities activate. Therefore, the image in your dreams would become clearer with each level of distress. You never saw Arthur in your first dream, correct? You only heard his voice. But this time you were practically inside his body. That means the danger he is in, or at least believes he is in, is getting more and more with each dream." Kiku finished. He looked back and forth between Alfred and Matthew. "Any questions?"

"And I only receive these signals when I'm asleep?" Alfred questioned dubiously.

Kiku thought it over, then replied. "At first, yes, but it is likely that it will not be limited to that for very long. Eventually, you will have them whenever you're awake as well as whenever the need arises." He shrugged his shoulders. "Again, this is only my theory. I could be completely wrong. "

Alfred had to admit he was greatly impressed. Kiku had really thought this out thoroughly . And yet he a little disappointed. He was thankful he knew what was happening to Arthur, yes, but there was literally no clue to his whereabouts in his dreams so far. It almost seemed pointless. Why would he have these visions if the only ended up being one let down after another?

Kiku gave Matthew a quite smile. "Also, I doubt that this power is limited to one twin. If it ever came to it, Matthew's mind would probably do the same, and might even see things clearer since his mind is already being a receptor to the images Matthew calls up."

Matthew prayed to Heaven above that it never would come to that. The fact that it came so close to happening yesterday frightened him more than he let himself show. He wouldn't go off the wall, like Alfred had. However, he would be quite inconsolable for a long while, becoming more and more withdrawn than he even was to the outside world usually. It was certain, though, that himself, just like Alfred, would throw all their efforts completely into a rescue and wouldn't rest

"Don't worry, Kiku. I'd find you, powers or not." His voice was quiet and his tone was solemn.

Kiku leaned over and gave him a light kiss, closing in the space between their bodies. "Thank you. The same goes for you, you know." His dark eyes began to twinkle with amusement suddenly. "I am afraid I would not be quite as efficient, though."

"Don't say that!" protested Matthew. "You're great at plenty of things."

Alfred rolled his eyes, waiting for the couple to finish out politing each other and just make out already. From experience, it was going to take a while, as they both could get very insistent while waiting for the other to make the first move. When their version of arguing was dying down, he laid down backwards and stared at the dull ceiling. He pressed his back into the hard mattress.

Matthew noticed the uncharacteristic silence coming from the other bed once he pulled away and frowned. "Are you-"

"I'm fine." Alfred slowly closed his eyes. "I just want to think things over for a few seconds. You two go back to what you were doing."

"Ok…" said Matthew carefully, knowing that although Alfred had been distracted, he still hadn't fully recovered from his upset before."We picked up food and water, so tell me if you need anything."

"Thanks, I will." Alfred's tone changed suddenly. "And thanks for everything."

Matthew could tell he was trying to apologize. "You're welcome." He nodded, knowing Alfred couldn't see the relieved smile playing on his face.

Alfred rolled onto his side, and even though did think some things out to himself thinking, a few minutes later the events of the past couple days caught up to him. He slipped off into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Unimpaired **

**Chapter 7**

El Jefe was in a bad mood.

By the time he had wormed his way free and busted himself out of the locked bathroom, his target and the two twins that had been with him were long gone. El Jefe swore in Spanish and kicked the crowded kitchen table, causing a few loose sheets to flutter to the ground. It had been a long time since he had failed a job, and especially one that was supposed to be easy. In his business, the price of failure was steep and unforgiving. He grabbed his knife from the countertop and returned it to its usual resting place in his sleeve.

In a normal situation, he would be on the road by now, tracking that Asian kid down. But there was a raging headache behind El Jefe's eyes and a fierce throbbing where he had been hit with what he guessed was a lamp. To top it all off, he would have to explain what had happed to his employers. He didn't think they were going to take his story of a telekinetic kid very well.

Well, he thought with a sigh, it was about time for him to skip town anyway. Things always got risky when you moved up from private employers and into the big leagues. Individuals were more likely to pay up what they owed. But companies and organizations had a tendency to stab you in the back once the job was completed or if you found out too much. El Jefe had learned the hard way on one of his first assignments and still had a scar to show for it.

He'd have to move to another state with another fake name and lay low for a few months, occasionally doing an odd job or two to earn some cash. Then he'd start advertising his services again. Usually, whoever he worked for wasn't desperate enough for a cross country manhunt. These CEOs and managers could be lazy once he stopped appearing as a threat. Typical Americans.

El Jefe had been born Antonio Fernandez Carriedo to a Spanish mother and an third generation Spanish immigrant father. His mother had moved to America from Spain in the year 1978, when she was in her mid-twenties. She was the first person in her immediate family to do so. His father had been raised in a large lower class family in the New York slums.

Once she had arrived, Antonio's mother managed to find a job working behind the counter at a dry cleaners. A year later, Antonio's father went to pick up something for a friend of his and at first sight fell head over heels. For the next few months, he found any excuse to visit the dry cleaner's she worked at, until she had gotten fed up and yelled at him to just ask her to dinner already. They were married two months later.

She had moved into his father's apartment and there they began raising a bilingual family of five, of which Antonio was the second oldest. He had both an older and younger sister, and two younger brothers, all of which were a pain. Still, Antonio took it upon himself to look after the young ones when both of his parents were working. His older sister had ditched her babysitting duties to hang out with a seedy boyfriend too many times and the responsibility had fallen on him.

On the outside, Antonio was a cheerful boy. He always seemed to be smiling and laughing at something, managing to cheer his parents up after a long day. He would ask his mother about her life in Spain and memorize every story. Someday, he said, he would escape the city slums and visit his mother's homeland. Until then, he would busy himself with taking care of the kids, he told his parents as they gave him bemused smiles.

For a boy of 14, though, nothing could have been more boring. Sure, they were family, but the kids were brats once his parents were out of the door. And he was too young to find a real job that would actually support the family. His friends at school always told him stories about gang fights they'd seen from their windows or from back alleyways, or the wounds their older brothers came home with. That was the kind of life Antonio wanted. To be a head gangster, and not some stupid thug. To be the scourge of the streets, nearly a modern day pirate.

When Antonio was 17, his older sister went out to see her boyfriend one night and didn't come back the next morning. Her body was found in a dumpster a few days later, with bruises all over her body. The cops didn't know who did it, and weren't going to bother looking. Once he had heard the news, Antonio had grabbed a small knife from the kitchen and walked out without saying a word. He would never return to that cramped apartment again.

It was a short walk to his sister's boyfriend's place. Antonio could tell from the moment he opened the door that he was dead drunk. The Spaniard had smiled and sweet talked himself inside, which was significantly easier due to the man's alcohol influence. It wasn't hard to bring the subject of his sister up. He claimed that his sister had broken up with him and called her several vulgar things in both Spanish and English.

Antonio had smiled warmly and nodded in agreement. Then he slit the man's throat.

Walking out of that apartment that day, Antonio had realized exactly what his true calling was. Why kill someone for free when he could do the same thing for money, and lots of it? It was the kind of job he had been looking for.

He stopped calling himself Antonio and chose a new name, both to disguise his identity and to boost his ego. _El Jefe, _he had chosen. _The Boss. _The knife he used had become his lucky weapon, which he preferred to use on the job more than any other weapon. Without the weight of it in his sleeve, El Jefe almost felt naked.

It had been an uphill battle, El Jefe reflected, locking the blond kid's apartment with the key he had stolen. But he was at the top now. Another few successful jobs and people would be lining up at his back door, asking for him by name.

El Jefe's expression turned sour again. If word of his failure got out, he'd be a complete laughingstock. The great El Jefe, taken down by a bunch of college kids! He would never live it down. But the way the kid had thrown him across the room like that, without even laying a finger-! El Jefe had never seen anything like it before. It was completely unexplainable.

He pressed the button on his keys and unlocked his car. Although he always stole a new car for every base he set up, it was always something a few years old and nondescript. The more common the make, the better. He checked to make sure there would be no unpleasant surprises in the back seat, then opened the door and sat down.

Casually, he raised a hand over his face as he drove by a security camera. They could still get the license plate number, but it wouldn't be tracked back to him. Besides, El Jefe was too good at what he did to stir up suspicion. He never broke into the house unless absolutely necessary, resorting to stealing keys and picking locks instead of breaking windows. That was for amateurs and common criminals.

El Jefe sighed. It had been a while since he'd talked to a would-be victim, much less threatened by one. That American boy had been absolutely furious with him. So he had been the other one in the house the other night. Funny, there had been someone in the first guy's house, too. He shrugged. It was probably just a coincidence. Plenty of college students roomed together.

El Jefe had to admit he had felt a bit sorry for the kid , in a way. Even if the ladies and even some gentlemen threw themselves on him every time he walked into a bar, he himself had never had a serious or invested relationship. But as in love as the kid was, there was no way in heaven that he was going to ever find his boyfriend. Maybe that was really why he'd said what he did, even if he had been telling himself at the time it was to discourage them from taking action.

There was no way he was going soft, though, he thought adamantly . And he was not going to become a laughingstock. At least those kids most likely wouldn't go to anybody and report this. They seemed to be in too much of a hurry to go and call the police and leak the story out. Even if he was a lone wolf as far as working went, he still had street credibility that he had to keep in a polished condition.

El Jefe pulled to a stop outside out of a small, two star restaurant on a downtown block. Above the restaurant were the grubby rooms he rented using a fake name from the owners. They were always in need of a few bucks and never questioned when he paid in cash, or what he did in his free time.

He failed to notice the figure standing on the roof across the street. Or the sniper he was holding.

El Jefe smiled and greeted the few passerby with a cheerful "_Hola_!" Despite being in a bad mood, he had to at least pretend to be that happy Spaniard everyone else was used to seeing around. Pretending always helped him feel better as well, strangely enough. Humming feyly to himself, he reached into his pocket for his keys.

Then something rammed into his chest and his body was thrown forward forcefully. El Jefe vaguely wondered for a brief moment why he had fallen. In a strangely detached state, he felt the blood pooling out from his chest. Around him, people were screaming.

Then the pain came. He gave a agonized scream.

A whiteness was closing in on his vision, threatening to overcome him.

No, he wasn't going to go towards the light. He wasn't going to die like this, lying face down on the ground and bleeding out!

_Oh, Mama, I never visited your homeland…_The thought grew dimmer as the light grew brighter.

His senses failed him, and the man once known as Antonio knew no more.

* * *

With a cool precision, the man on the rooftop lowered his gun. Once he had concealed it in an innocent looking duffel bag, he pulled out his phone and dialed his employer.

His voice was husky. "I have finished what you have asked."

A pause. " _Da, Da, _I will come back right away."

He paused again, then nodded and replied in his native language. _"__Do svidaniya_."

He pressed the **End Call **button with his thumb and hefted the duffel bag over his shoulder. In the distance, sirens sounded.

The man smirked. He knew that they were already too late.

He never missed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Unimpaired **

**Chapter 8**

"Can you change the channel, please?" Matthew rubbed his temples, wondering if he should just go ahead and take some Ibuprofen or wait until he actually developed a headache. "I can't even figure out what the characters are even singing about." He'd been reading when Kiku first changed it to whatever show was on currently, but had set his book down when one of the characters started singing and piqued his curiosity. However, it had quickly degraded into a mess that had started grating on his nerves.

Kiku laughed softly. "You said you liked Disney."

"Not what they consider children's programming these days." Matthew had watched Disney Channel a lot when he was younger, and considered most of their current programs annoying, if not trashy. "Besides, it's almost 6:00. The news will be on soon, and Alfred will be pissed if we don't watch it." Not that the news was any better. It was just too depressing to watch nowadays.

Kiku sighed softly. He doubted anything would come up, but he didn't want to do anything to crush his friend's hopes. "Very well." Kiku pressed a few buttons on the remote, and soon a pair of news anchors were chatting away about a rare species of crab that was caught earlier in the day. "Speaking of, do you know when he's going to come back?"

After waking up just before lunch, Alfred had suggested that he and Matthew practice their skills for a bit. They were going to need them on their rescue mission. Alfred had decided to send a towel around the room just above their heads, trying his hardest to keep it completely under his control. A few hours of this later, though, Alfred claimed he was going crazy and stalked outside. Matthew had suspected his brother need some time alone and didn't stop him. It had been a few hours, but Alfred still wasn't back yet. Matthew still had his keys in his pocket, though, so he couldn't have gone far.

Matthew shrugged. "Whenever he feels better, or gets hungry." He gave a forced laugh. "You know how he is. He hates showing true weakness in front of others. Get angry and hit them, sure, but it's rare that I even see him cry. Like actually full out break down." He paused. "Do you remember when our golden retriever died when we were in 6th grade? The one Alfred named Freedom when he was 7?"

Kiku thought back for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "That was right when Alfred caught the flu, was it not?"

Matthew shifted guiltily. "Well that's what our parents told the administrators, but in reality Alfred had locked himself in his room and refused to come out for three days. When anyone would try to unlock the door, he'd scream at them until they backed away. It scared our parents to death, but a few days later, he came out by himself, acting perfectly normal again. He never spoke of Freedom again and life just went on."

The room was silent for a few minutes. Kiku pursed his lips, troubled. He had often suspected that Alfred's cheerfulness was sometimes a façade for what he was truly feeling, but it wasn't often that he got to glimpse the other side of the mask. And what he had glimpsed had always made Kiku stare after him worryingly. Real life wouldn't spare him from a tragedy sometime in his life, and Alfred was going to have to cope as a mature adult. But would he be ready?

"It is funny." said Kiku out loud, trying to both break the stillness and lighten the mood. "He cannot deal with sorrow himself, but he is great at comforting others and always wants to see people happy."

Matthew smiled with a hint of sadness. "Interior decorators don't usually decorate their own homes. It doesn't make sense, but that's how it is."

The mention of their home city on the television in front of them caused their attention to rivet immediately on the screen. "A local man was shot down outside his apartment earlier today at 153 Campstone Street. Witnesses report seeing a man on the roof both before and after the shooting, but vanished before the police arrived. The man, identified as Jonathan Romo, has been taken to the hospital, but his survival is doubtful. We now cut to Robert with a few witnesses. Robert?"

The reporter Robert started interviewing a witness, who still seemed near hysterical, but all Kiku and Matthew could look at was the picture in the bottom left corner of the screen. The picture of the victim. His scruffy brown hair, green eyes, and cheeky smile were unmistakable.

"That's… That's the assassin guy who tried to kidnap you." Matthew was stunned.

Kiku was shocked also. "El Jefe." His subtle Japanese accent made the Spanish words almost sound humorous.

"But how…?" Matthew stood up and started pacing the room, looking very much like his twin. "Is it a coincidence that someone tried to kill him the day after he fails to kidnap you? I doubt it." He threw himself back onto the bed.

Kiku was pale. "He failed to capture me. That is why he had to die." For the first time, the dark haired man looked truly scared. "We are not dealing with something little here. Whoever this is, they are serious." His breath sucked in. "And they are not going to stop looking for us."

Matthew swallowed back the panic that rose up in his throat. Until now, the full gravity of the situation hadn't sunken in. "They certainly aren't kidding around anymore." Everything was starting to feel like a bad dream. Lovers getting kidnapped, assassins getting shot in the back. That was supposed to happen to people in books, not in real life.

Kiku stood up with a sigh, smoothing his shirt down and swallowing his fear. "I will tell Alfred. He will want to know."

Matthew frowned. "Are you sure you don't want me to do it? I can calm him down if he lashes out again."

Kiku put a gentle hand on his shoulder and placed a light kiss on Matthew's forehead. "I appreciate your concern for my safety. Perhaps, though, Alfred needs a different approach. Friends often notice things that siblings are too close for. Besides, we cannot keep treating him like a bomb about to go off."

Despite the light blush on Matthew's cheeks, there was an uncertain look in his eyes. "You're right, of course, but still…" He trailed off, meeting his boyfriend's eyes.

Kiku met his gaze with reassurance. "Trust me on this one." He found his shoes and slipped them on. "If I feel the mood go in a bad direction, I will run back here and let you deal with it. Ok?"

Matthew caved. "Ok. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Kiku smiled. "See you."

It was a pleasantly warm evening outside, not too humid. Spring was coming quickly this year. A few early weeds were sticking out of the cracked pavement, lured into growth by sunshine and recent rainfall. There were a couple clouds placed haphazardly around the sky, which was beginning to glow with the orange colors of sunset.

Alfred was sitting on a bench across the street, where a decrepit children's playground was slowly crumbling into rust. The bench itself was old, and looked as if it would fall apart at a touch. Kiku was careful not to give himself splinters as he sat down next to the blond.

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Hey."

"Hello. How are you feeling?" Kiku gave him an appraising glance.

"Better, I guess." Alfred shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. "I tried swinging on that swing set over there, but it made some freaky noises when I sat down. I figured that I didn't want to die and decided to count the traffic instead." He gestured to the empty street. "Whatever little of it decides to pass by." He gave Kiku a curious look. "What have y'all been up to?"

"Nothing more interesting than what you were doing. I watched whatever was on, while Matthew read." A quick amused grin flashed across his face. "Did you know Mattie hates Disney Channel?"

Alfred laughed. "Really? That's new."

The conversation lulled. An old gray pickup rattled by. "Six." Alfred said under his breath, a tad wearily.

Kiku waited until Alfred seemed at ease, then began again. "Honestly, Alfred, how are you feeling?" He held a finger up to stop him from replying right away. "I am not asking if your boredom is cured. I am asking how you're doing emotionally."

Alfred stared at him mutely for a moment, caught off guard. Then he looked away. "I'm doing better than I was this morning."

"That is good to hear." One of Kiku's favorite uncles was a therapist, and one winter break he'd stayed a few days at his house. A couple of times he had to go visit a client, and he had taken it upon himself to take a young Kiku with him and show him how things were done in his business. Kiku hadn't been very interested at the time, but had listened out of politeness to what his uncle was telling him.

Now Kiku tried to use those techniques to get Alfred to open up and get everything that was troubling him off his chest. "Though that is not all, is it?"

Alfred shook his head after a brief consideration. "No. I still feel like an compete emotional mess. Every time I think back on that dream, I get so angry it scares even myself." He shivered, the sparkle in his eyes growing dimmer. "At the same time, though, I feel just… just so hopeless. There is literally no way to move forward from this point, you know? I haven't had another dream this morning. I'm not going to sleep well enough tonight to have one either."

"I understand." said Kiku encouragingly, but Alfred seemed to have forgotten his existence.

"But overall, I'm so damn terrified. So many things could happen, so many things could go wrong. What if he gets shot trying to stand up for himself? What if he has a panic attack and can't calm himself down? What if those guys try to…" Alfred had to take a few breaths to stop the rage from working itself up again. "What if they try to assault him and he's tied up and helpless?" He wiped his eyes quickly, remembering Kiku's presence. "I can't let that happen. I can't I can't I can't."

Kiku placed a comforting hand on Alfred's knee. "It is only natural for you to be anxious. You are a person, not a machine."

"I was going to marry him." said Alfred suddenly. "No, I am going to marry him."

Kiku's eyebrows arched attentively. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Alfred swung his legs absently. "I don't care how far we'd have to move, I'm going to marry him. I know, it's a long term commitment. I'm not always good with those. I don't care, though. I've never felt like that for another person before and I don't think I ever will again. I want to make him the happiest person on earth."

Alfred's fist thudded dully against the wood of the bench. "Except now a dragon has kidnapped the princess, and the knight that's supposed to save her doesn't even know what the goddamn thing looks like. I'm useless." His shoulders slumped despondently.

"Do not say that." said Kiku firmly. "None of this is your fault. We are up against something much bigger than the three of us and we have still managed to get farther than most people would have. "

Alfred gave a grunt. The dark haired man decided now would be a good time to break what he and Matthew had seen to his friend. "Speaking of, Matthew and I saw something troubling on the news a few minutes ago."

The blond's face grew pale as Kiku explained what had become of the Spanish assassin. "They said he was still alive, but barely. No doubt the job will be finished off later if he does manage to pull through."

Alfred seemed to be in shock. "Oh my god… These people are monsters. Who would kill someone just because they failed a job, even if they were an assassin? It seems like such a waste of life."

"The people we are up against, it seems." Kiku gave a weary sigh. "They are not going to make it easy for us."

Alfred swore under his breath. "I didn't like that El Jefe guy very much, but I didn't want him to die like that."

"Did he not do as much to others, though?" Kiku was looking at him strangely. "He was nearly bragging about it."

Alfred was taken aback for a moment. "Er, that's true. And I can never forgive him for taking Iggy." His expression turned dark for a split second. Then the moment was gone. "I don't know, though. I've been thinking about all this. I guess, despite everything, he seemed like a good guy. We'd probably be friends in different situations."

Kiku shook his head, incredulous. "I cannot understand you sometimes."

"Ehehehe yeah…" Then a realization hit Alfred hard. "These people are completely ruthless. They will do absolutely anything to succeed in what they're doing."

"Yes, that is what I have been saying."

"And Arthur is the most stubborn person I know." Alfred's stomach churned anxiously.

Kiku started, fully getting was his friend was saying. "Oh no."

Alfred's voice was shaking. "If he doesn't submit to them, they'll most likely use every method they can to make sure he does."


	9. Chapter 9

**Unimpaired **

**Chapter 9**

Arthur couldn't remember a time he had been hungrier.

When he had been in the trunk, the hunger had been a mild annoyance at most. There had been too many anxieties and desperate plots in his head. And then he'd been bashed on the head and jerked around, causing the pain to mask the increasingly frequent pangs in his stomach.

What felt like hours had passed since Arthur had been so rudely shoved into the tiny room. There was no way to tell exactly how long, and he'd long since given up the idea of counting seconds. Not once had his captors made a reappearance, either to feed him or to do whatever else they must have planned. Were they just going to leave him here to rot? What good would that be?

As if on cue, his stomach gave a gurgle. Arthur did his best to ignore it. Starving to death sounded like one of the worst possible ways to die, and he had no desire to go out that way. He'd work up a way to kill himself first.

Arthur's feet were practically numb from pacing the frigid concrete. He'd walked along the walls one at a time, trying to find some sort of weakness or hidden vent that he could use to his advantage. There had been nothing of the sort, he had realized. The durable wooden door, which he discovered lacked an internal doorknob, seemed to mock his lack of physical strength. If he'd played football like Alfred, he would at least have a shot of breaking it down. Arthur's body, though, hadn't been built for athletic ability, and he'd always opted for more intellectual pastimes.

The dismal cot offered no comfort. It was next to useless as a tool to break apart the irksome handcuffs. Its hollow metal poles couldn't make a scratch on the door. The lone sheet hardly offered any comfort from the chill that seemed to encompass the whole room. Eventually, he'd given up and sat down on the cot, wrapping his arms around himself. The injury on his head throbbed dully as his mind began to wander.

Why did it have to be so damn cold? It should be spring any day now. Winter should be almost gone. This time of the year was the best, Arthur mused, when you could feel the freezing air around you, and yet it didn't paralyze you because you were in a comfortable warmth. Alfred was like a hot water bottle under the sheets. Maybe it was sweltering during the summer, but in the winter it was heavenly just snuggling with him.

What was Alfred doing right now? Did he think he'd left him? Or was he just confused that his boyfriend had disappeared off of the face of the earth? Whatever his idea, Alfred had to be distraught. Arthur wished for the thousandth time that he'd been able to communicate to him when he felt the rag being pressed against his mouth. He wished that he'd been able to leave something or knock something over and show signs of a struggle. But he had been paralyzed, too scared to even scream for help before the darkness took over.

Damn them. Damn them all. Why did it have to be him? Couldn't it have just been some easy target on the streets at night? Human traffickers and gangsters weren't supposed to break into your house in the dark, where you felt safe. It was supposed to happen to people who wouldn't be noticed missing. Too many people would notice if he didn't show up in class in the morning.

_Is that really true? _A small voice in the back of his head whispered. _Do you know for certain that people care that you've vanished? That Alfred isn't secretly happy that you've gone? You've always been a burden on him, you know. He's just too nice to say anything to you. This could be the solution he's searching for. _

Arthur shook his head vigorously, dispelling the thoughts. That was impossible. He and Alfred told each other how much they loved them every day at minimum. It helped them both feel secure and always managed to cheer Arthur up after a particularly bad day. You couldn't fake the kind of devotion he saw in Alfred's sky blue eyes, or the love held in his fingertips.

A rattling on the door ripped Arthur out of his thoughts and caused him to sit bolt upright. In the few seconds before the door was opened, he smoothed down his hair and tried to put back the stubborn expression he'd had on the mortifying walk to his cell.

The first person through the door was a man with a Latin-American complexion, with black hair and dark eyes. Arthur guess he couldn't be much older than himself, perhaps 22 or 23. He was wearing a simple gray t-shirt and black jeans, but he had an intimidating looking gun strapped his belt. Presumably, he was a guard as well. In his hands was a tray with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of clear liquid that was hopefully water placed on top of it. He seemed to be purposely not looking in his direction.

Closely following him was a much older, severe looking woman. Her muddy colored hair, tied back into a neat ponytail, was graying at the roots, but it added to a look of intelligence. She had on a lab coat over a simple blouse and slacks. She carried with her a white duffel bag and a clipboard.

The tray was set on the floor in the center of the room, then the guard took several steps back and stood at the woman's side, still looking at the opposite wall.

"Thank you, Dante. That'll be enough." The woman hardly glanced at him while issuing her order.

"Ma'am?" he questioned quietly, puzzled.

With a start, Arthur realized that this was one of the guards who had so kindly escorted him out of the trunk. He was almost positive that this guy had been the third guard, the one who had been taunted by the other guard. Suddenly, he felt even less safe. Verbal harassment, he knew, could escalate into something far more unpleasant.

"I prefer privacy when talking to my patients. You can stand outside the door." she replied dryly. "Trust me, he's in no position to launch an attack." She held her hand out. "Key."

Dante shot a glance at Arthur, which was met with a challenging scowl. With visible reluctance, he reached in his pocket and handed her a single key. "I'll be waiting, ma'am."

"Thank you." She waited until the door was firmly shut before setting her bag down addressing Arthur. "Eat and we'll talk." Her long fingers pointed towards the tray.

Arthur warily stood up off the cot and sat down in front of the tray. His stomach was screaming at him to eat, but he had to be careful. Anything could be in this food. Picking up the spoon, he slowly stirred the gray lumps.

The woman bent down and inserted the key Dante had given to her into the small hole in Arthur's handcuffs. With a twist and a click, his wrists were free. "It's good to eat, we haven't done anything to it. Trust me, this organization isn't what you probably think it is." She extended her hand out to him. "I'm Doctor Hocking." When Arthur didn't shake it, she shrugged and started rummaging through her bag and pulling out medical equipment. "Suit yourself."

Arthur cautiously placed a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. It was bland and difficult to get down, but it would satisfy his hunger. Although he was careful not to appear too greedy, the bowl was scraped clean by the time Hocking finished unpacking.

"Why am I here?" Arthur's voice was cracked and rusty from lack of use.

"Doctor Lysander wants to explain that to you personally. I'm just giving you a check-up right now." Hocking said noncommittally.

"Gee, thanks." Arthur's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You've got to make sure I'm all healthy before the next beating, right?"

"That attitude will only get you into trouble." Hocking took a hold of his wrist and pushed his pajama sleeve up. Around his wrist she wrapped a black strap, which was connected by wire to a small box. "Hold still." she commanded. With the press of a button, the strap began to tighten. Arthur could have laughed. She was taking his blood pressure, like this was some normal visit to the doctor's office.

"Who's Doctor Lysander?" Arthur questioned as she slid a thermometer under his tongue.

Hocking impatiently waited for the beep, then pulled it out and read the number off the display. "98.4." she muttered, recording it on her clipboard. "Doctor Lysander is an amazing man."

"Because amazing men kidnap young people and lock them up, right?" Arthur narrowed his eyes.

She sighed. "We're not your enemy, Arthur. The methods we use are regrettable, but necessary. If you cooperate, I assure you that you will be rewarded handsomely."

Arthur snorted, rolling his eyes. "Right."

Hocking frowned, spotting the lump on his head. "When did this happen?"

Arthur crossed his arms. "Your guards felt the need to educate me on what happens when you disobey them."

Hocking swore under her breath. "I told them last time, the detainees are not to be rough handled. I don't care about their dumb need to prove their cock size, I care about the health of my patients! One more time like this and they'll be fired." Arthur couldn't tell if she was talking to him or herself.

The female doctor leaned over him and examined the egg on his skull. "It doesn't look like you have a concussion, fortunately. I'll get you some ice to put on it at your next meal, which should be…" Hocking glanced at her watch. "In eight hours." She looked him up and down, seeming to be pondering something.

Eventually, she spoke. "I'm going to need you to undress for me."

Arthur frowned, a bit more than a little creeped out. "Excuse me?!" He hoped she didn't hear the hysterical edge to his tone.

Hocking rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I need to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. There isn't anything I haven't seen, but you can keep your boxers on, if it bothers you that much. Everything that happens in this room stays between us." She must have said those words a thousand times, and it showed.

"I don't have to do anything for you." Already, he was sick of being ordered around by these people who all clearly thought they were better than him.

Her lips came together in a tight line. "I don't want to have to punish you, Arthur, since you are our guest. Nonetheless, I am willing to deliver consequences if it comes down to it. Do you understand me?"

Arthur's eyes fell to the floor. Somehow, she made him feel like he was a schoolchild again and he was being lectured for forgetting to do his homework. "Yes, ma'am."

Hocking gave him a nod of approval. "Good. Now, go on."

Burning with humiliation, Arthur stood himself up and began fumbling with the buttons on his pajama shirt. They took a bit, and he could feel Hocking's eyes on him, but eventually he managed to get it off. His pants slid off easily after that. He was left shivering in his dark green boxers, his favorite pair.

Hocking studied him meticulously, eyes drawing to the dark bruises that were beginning to form on his chest and back, which were obvious against his pale skin. Occasionally, she'd press a finger into a mark, causing him to wince and bite back vulgarities.

After jotting a few things down on her clipboard, Hocking finally seemed satisfied with her check-up. "Thank you for your cooperation, Arthur. See, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

Arthur could have argued that being stripped down in front of a lady he met thirty minutes ago wasn't his idea of a good time, except that he'd realized that it was useless to arguing with Doctor Hocking. She seemed just as stubborn as Arthur himself could be. That was an admittedly worrisome thought.

Bending over and pulling something out of her bag, Hocking handed Arthur a plastic shopping bag.

"What is this?" The emerald-eyed man questioned, opening it up.

She began to pack away her equipment. "Proper clothing, of course. You can't go meet Doctor Lysander looking like you just got out of bed." She stuffed his pajamas into the duffel.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "The mere thought is scandalous."

He pulled each item out of the unmarked bag. The first article of clothing was a collared shirt, a forest green color and made of a sturdy material. Surprisingly, it wasn't much different from something he would wear on the weekend. The next was a pair of khakis that looked a bit long on him. Great, he'd trip on his way to meet the man that ordered his capture.

He turned the bag upside-down. "That's it? No shoes or anything?"

Hocking picked up her bag. "You'll earn the right to wear shoes when you join us, among other things. For now, you can make do without."

Arthur grumbled, but he hurriedly put on his new outfit. He hated the feeling of pathetic vulnerability that came with the lack of clothing. With his semi-formal outfit on, he felt at least a bit more secure and invulnerable to harm.

Hocking gave a knock on the door, signaling that their time together was officially over. "Try to get some sleep. Lights out is in an hour or so. In the morning, you'll get another meal and a chance to use the restroom. Do your best to not mess up your clothes."

Dante opened the door, seeming relieved that Doctor Hocking was in one piece. She handed him back the key, then left without making another sound. Dante seemed to steady himself, then picked the handcuffs up off the ground.

"I'm putting these back on you." He muttered.

Arthur stuck his hands in his pockets defiantly. "I'd like to see you try."

Dante gave a long sigh, looking indecisive. Then his hand shot out and grabbed Arthur's arm and roughly jerked it towards him. Before he could even cry out, the cuff was on one of his wrists and his other one had a coarse hand tightly gripped around it. Arthur's eyes had gone huge, panicked at finding himself in such a position with this man. He could feel the guard breathing down on his cheek.

Dante had a furious expression on his face. "Don't you try to screw with me." His expression changed suddenly into something akin to confusion, then to weariness. "It's just a bad idea, kid. I'm a dangerous person." Dante slapped the handcuffs onto his unchained wrist and shoved him towards the cot. "Night."

He slammed the door, leaving a bewildered Arthur staring after him.

What had that been all about?

* * *

**A/N: Hey, thanks for reading! I just want to say that nothing makes me happier than reviews, so feel free to tell me what you think of the story! Updates might be less frequent for the next couple of months because of school and band, but I'll do my best to keep on track. **


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